


Mistletoe

by messyfeathers



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, WTNVSS, this is just really cute and fluffy all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messyfeathers/pseuds/messyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is home from the desert in time for the holidays, and what better way to get back into the Christmas spirit than with an improvised party?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliensandcats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliensandcats/gifts).



> written for maridette as a part of the WTNV Secret Santa event! I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy it!

Twas the night before Christmas and all through Night Vale’s dark streets, not a sentient being was stirring...

Except at the Palmer-Scientist residence where months of bachelor life are in a state of upheaval in preparation for an impromptu holiday party. 

“We really could still cancel it,” Cecil offers, armfuls of freshly-washed dishes clattering as he hurries to unload them into their proper places for the first time in weeks. “I mean, you’ve only been back from the desert two days after all.A party may not have been the best idea we could have had this late in the game.”A wistful note works its way into his voice as he suggests, “we could stay in instead - just the two of us, barricaded against the holidays.Maybe a cup of hot cocoa..”The scientist at his back shrugs out of a butter-stained kitchen lab coat and carefully tucks a basted bird back into the oven with a touch of pride.  

“That does sound nice," Carlos admits, "but we’ve never hosted a dinner party before, and I’ve always thought it would be fun.And what better way to get back in touch with everyone all at once?” He pauses for a breath and a smile to his boyfriend; in the diminutive space of their kitchen, it’s impossible to be anything but close.Carlos’ urge for a stolen kiss is interrupted by something green being lowered into the periphery of his vision.From above, a sprig of mistletoe inches its way down on a length of fishing wire.  

“The Faceless Old Woman,” Cecil sighs.“She’s been doing this ever since you got back.”  

“I’ve heard rumors that we’re the only couple in town whose displays of affection she doesn’t find completely pointless and ultimately futile in the face of existence itself,” Carlos offers with a flirtatious flash of perfect teeth.Cecil takes a half-step closer beneath the mistletoe - nearly, but not quite taking the bait.“So are you going to kiss me or not?” the scientist teases.

Cecil seems to consider the option briefly before placing a chaste kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead instead.“I’d rather not give her the satisfaction at this point,” he whispers cheekily with a smooth sidestep out from under the greenery.“I can go get the sigils carved in the floorboards for the tree if you don’t mind mixing up a batch of eggnog.”

“Isn’t your friend Earl bringing the eggnog?” 

“I don’t trust his recipes; he has an unhealthy love for nutmeg,” Cecil calls over the scratching of a bowie knife against mahogany.  

For being a last-minute idea, the Christmas party turns out to be quite the event.Everyone attends: invited guests and unanticipated arrivals alike.True to expectation, Earl Harlan brings a beverage nearly toxic in its festivity; Josie and her Erikas arrive in a truly horrendous array of holiday sweaters; even a few interns turn up confused and slightly dazed by their sudden and unexpected appearance in the living room.Despite several nervous glances cast out the windows toward the rapidly darkening sky, it seems to be an eerily silent night in the streets of Night Vale.Inside the house, however, excited chatter fills the rooms to the backdrop of traditional chanting from over the radio.Even the Faceless Old Woman seems to catch the holiday spirit, livening up several decorations with a casual touch of fire.Even now, as Carlos finally sneaks away from the soiree to catch his breath on the sofa next to Cecil, a withered hand holding a sprig of mistletoe wriggles through the air vent above them.  

“You’ve been hiding over here all night,” he offers, reaching a hand to Cecil and pulling him off the couch.Nonchalantly, he nudges two shy interns to take their place beneath the Faceless Old Woman’s trap.“Don’t we have a gift exchange to get started?”Chairs are pushed aside to allow the entire gathering into the living room while still maintaining the precautionary berth for the Christmas tree.One-by-one, garishly wrapped boxes exchange hands as their recipients exchange smiles and amused comments at the gifts inside - all no doubt gathered at the eleventh hour from whatever shop was still open this late Christmas Eve.Some of the gifts bear traces of forethought: an ancient bloodstone pendant given to Dana by the shapeless form working as a clerk at city hall, a hand-knit festive dinosaur sweater Josie made for Carlos, an intricately-carved wooden whistle that mimics the call of the red-tailed hawk that Cecil proudly hands Janice.  

The last gift of the evening is from Steve Carlsberg.It’s lumpy, the wrapping nothing more than clumsily applied layers of tinfoil.“Sorry the tinfoil’s all I had,” Steve apologizes as he hands the package to Cecil.Cecil’s eyelids flutter minutely as a flicker of disdain crosses his features.  

“Figures,” he mumbles as he peels away the layers.“Of course you _would_ have drawn my name.”

It’s hard to tell whether Steve doesn’t hear the comments or simply willfully ignores them, choosing instead to insist, “I-I promise you’ll like it!” 

“How do you know what I do and don’t like?” Cecil huffs sarcastically.The last layer peels away to reveal a simple frame.Behind the pane of glass is a photograph, a candid shot of Cecil and Janice applying cat stickers to the spoke guards of her wheelchair.

“I took it at her last birthday party,” Steve explains.“I was going to give it to you for Christmas anyway, but then I drew your name and well..!”  

Cecil traces the faces peeking up from the photo with a fingertip before absently tracing the touch over his own features as well.“I look like her,” he realizes with the hint of a smile.In a halting motion he reaches towards Steve.It’s an awkward half-hug, half-shoulder pat, but it’s the most genuine contact the two have had in years.“Thank you,” Cecil says with a little cough.“Merry Christmas, Steve.”  

When Carlos finds Cecil hiding in the coat closet nearly an hour later, he’s still holding the frame, though it seems more a lifeline than a gift at this point in the evening.  

“It’s a nice photo,” Carlos offers, leaning against the doorframe.Cecil glances down at the object in his hands as if only just realizing its existence.  

“I’m thinking I’ll put it on my desk at work to replace the old outdated one,” he says quietly as he gently places the frame aside.“Don’t tell Steve,” he adds with a snort.With his now-empty hands he motions for Carlos to join him on the floor.  

“I really must have been gone a while,” the scientist jokes as he squeezes into the mostly-empty space opposite his boyfriend.“I didn’t remember this closet even being here.”

“That’s because it alternates sides of the hallway every so often these days,” Cecil shrugs as he quickly reaches up to pull the door closed behind the new arrival. Carlos glances towards the door and then back to Cecil.  

“You alright?”  

Cecil shrugs again.“I’ve never really been the party type.Too many people at once, y’know?”He pauses to readjust position, aligning the toes of his obscenely violet house moccasins with Carlos’ sneakers across from him.“Back before you, I wasn’t really the most social person.Or, or even _with_ you, I’d much prefer nights in to going out.”

“But I thought you’ve always loved things like bowling league?” Carlos asks.

“Only four people to a lane in bowling,” Cecil reminds him.“Well, seven, if you count the angels, but of course we legally can’t _do_ that.”Carlos reaches across the empty space takes his hand.They’re quiet for a minute, still more than content to simply be sharing space again before Cecil softly asks, “I should probably go back out and join the fun, shouldn’t I?”Carlos considers the question for a moment before a loud thumping outside the door snatches at their attention.  

“Well,” Carlos announces, pushing himself back to his feet and reaching down for Cecil to pull him up as well.“In about an hour everyone will be heading home for curfew to board up their windows against the drugged-up bears.Until then you can help me sing some Christmas carols.I’ve been told I don’t know the right words.”

“Who doesn’t know the words to Christmas carols?” Cecil teases as he trips over a pair of gardening boots and finds himself clumsily buried in Carlos’ chest. 

Arms find their way around him, easily holding him in place as the scientist explains, “See, I’ve always sung ‘ _go tell it on the mountain_ ’, but apparently the correct lyrics are-”

“ _There is no mountain/how dare you spread such falsehoods, wait where you are/the proper authorities are en route to your location,_ ” Cecil finishes in unison with him.  

“That flows so well,” Carlos laughs, and his breath is warm and familiar as it brushes across Cecil’s lips.Unfortunately, the door takes that opportunity to creak open - suspiciously on its own - just far enough to reveal an armful of mistletoe stapled into the wall above the doorframe.  

“Looks like she finally caught us,” Carlos sighs dramatically.  

“At least that explains the thumping sounds,” Cecil agrees with a jaunty grin.“I think it’s safe to say we should give in.”It’s a careful kiss, gentle and sweet and too short to suit either of them, but a party still awaits in their living room after all.  

“Once everyone leaves we could turn out the lights,” Carlos murmurs, leaning in just til their foreheads touch.“Curl up on the sofa together.Maybe watch that one cartoon about the two-headed deer that flies.”

“You mean the documentary about government-sourced reindeer,” Cecil corrects, pulling away to make a show of straightening Carlos’ bowtie as it peeks out over a sweater patterned with pteranodons and twinkle lights.  

“Cecil, I think it’s impossible or at the least _unrealistic_ for reindeer to achieve that altitude,“ Carlos replies.“Scientifically speaking, I mean.”Cecil responds with only a knowing smirk and a quirked eyebrow.“Either way,” the scientist continues, redirecting his train of thought back to its previous track as he tucks a wandering strand of Cecil’s hair back into place.“Just you, me, whatever’s left and edible of the eggnog - sound like a good way to spend Christmas?”  

Cecil nods enthusiastically, wrapping his arms lazily around his boyfriend’s neck.“Merry Christmas, Mr. Scientist,” he whispers sweetly, so very glad to not be saying it over the static of a long-distance call.  

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Palmer,” Carlos whispers back, stealing one more quick kiss before they leave to rejoin their guests.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked the idea of the FOW being a huge Cecilos shipper, so I figured I'd work that in somehow. this was so much fun to write! Happy holidays, and may everyone reading this stay clear of any disastrous holiday happenings involving monoliths and/or ancient rituals~


End file.
